Reflective Writing . Higher English. Titles. Not- Reflective Essay Choose something which relates to your main reflections The Diagnosis/ Just One More Wish / Enlightenment / The Crowd/ Two Blue Lines . Introductions. Must engage the reader
It was raining. I turned through the dark, deserted streets alone. My feet were soaking and my jeans were saturated as far as my knees so that my legs were numb with cold. Rain trickled down my neck, making me shiver and I shoved bare hands further into the deep pockets of my black canvas jacket. Suddenly, I noticed out of the corner of my eye, a group of youths down a narrow side street. I froze. Had they seen me? Slowly, I crept closer and slid silently behind a bin. No. They hadn’t seen me. I was certain of that. I cautiously poked my head out the tiniest little bit from my hiding place and peered through the darkness.
I understood then why a crowd sometimes behaves in a way in which anyone who is not part of it is unable to understand. Crowds are dangerous. They change people. They consume unique individuals and subtly control them. They process the individuals into a homogenous mass. Although I knew that the youths’ behaviour was not justified just because they were part of a crowd, I understood that they were part of a crowd. I understood that they had been unable to escape the clutches of the power of the crowd. I understood why I had been such a coward, why I had chose to deny what I’d seen and run away. I had been scared because, next to the crowd, I was nothing. To challenge the crowd is potentially lethal.
The atmosphere was tense, almost electric. The sound of the dry drums resounded throughout the barren valley. Everyone was screaming and all over the barbed-wire-topped ex-prison fence were pinned thousands of banners and leaflets creating a beautiful, colourful collage around the Centre. I gripped my mum’s hand as tightly as I could.
Smoke from their cigarettes was suspended in the air around like a morning mist. I could see only their vague outlines in the dim orange light. There must have been at least twenty, twenty-five even. I couldn’t tell for sure. One of them, bottle in hand, bent down and picked something up off the ground. He launched the small object, which I assumed was a stone, at the upstairs window of one of the flats which happened to look out onto the dull street. The stone flew undeterred through the icy night air and hit the window with a sharp click. Thankfully it bounced off it and landed safely back on the ground. Next, the entire mob began to pelt stones at the window and eventually, after withstanding an incredible attack, it shattered, scattering hundreds of sharp shards of glass all over the glistening pavement. Anangry, muffled cry could be heard from within the flat and the youths jeered and ran away before anyone had the chance to confront them, or, worse still, identify them.
Now the only other person for a mile had vanished, fear took control as I sat slowly breathing oxygen, stranded in a cove, off an uninhabited island. I had never felt so vulnerable and alone. Panic enveloped me insidiously. What was I to do? The cold water stared dispassionately, with an unnerving blankness.
Back on the boat, I sat sipping hot chocolate. When I looked over the side, I saw my crystal clear reflection staring confidently back at me. Gone was the face with depressed with uncertainty. The only doubt about next week’s dive was the water temperature, as today’s physical dive had been conducted in much shallower water than the mental one. The experience had illuminated my character, revealing its strengths and weaknesses. I had been afraid of the unknown and unwilling to deviate from the familiar. However, I had persevered and succeeded in acquiring the ability to scuba-dive. I had emerged from the water having overcome many of these weaknesses and with a boosted confidence in my abilities and a greater idea of myself as a person. In all senses, I had been enlightened.
We often see crowds behaving badly in protests, at football matches, even in our everyday lives on the streets and we reassure ourselves that, no matter what, we will never behave as badly as the crowd. We will never become so involved that we will lose complete control over our won selves. Can we really be so sure?